Semua Bab Capturing Viola: His Wife Is Mine: Bab 171 - Bab 174

Viola McCoyThe quiet hits first.No horns. No sirens. No clacking heels on pavement or elevator dings. Just birdsong. The rustle of trees. The occasional car crunching down a gravel road.It’s unsettling at first but I settle into it slowly. Like slipping into a bath that’s too hot at first, but soon becomes exactly what you didn’t know you needed.The little house I’ve rented is old but sweet. Pale yellow with white trim. A tiny porch and chipped wooden steps. The kind of place that feels like it holds memories, even if they aren’t mine.I unpack the last box and place it in the corner like a ceremony. I haven’t put anything up on the walls. I don’t know if I want to. It still feels temporary, even though I keep telling myself I left for good.I grab a light jacket and walk.There’s a stretch of road lined with trees that leads into the town center—a small strip with a bakery, post office, diner, bookstore, and a modest little clinic tucked beside a flower shop.I don’t plan on goin

Viola McCoyThe clinic is quiet, save for the scratch of my pen against the ledger and the occasional beep from the front desk monitor. It’s the first morning I’ve felt a little less hollow. Not whole—but not crumbling either.Until the bell rings.I glance up, expecting an elderly patient or one of the nurses returning from break. But instead, I see a small figure standing in the doorway.Big eyes. Light-up sneakers. Crayons tucked in the crook of one arm.And dimples.Missy.My heart lodges in my throat. My grip tightens on the pen until it creaks.She beams when she sees me. “It’s the pretty lady!”Pretty lady.The air whooshes out of me.She skips toward the counter and before I can react, she’s already walked around and into the employee area, wrapping her arms around my legs.“Pretty lady,” she says again, softer this time. “Where have you been?”I can’t breathe. I don’t even know what to say.Her voice is so sweet. So innocent.I finally croak, “How… how are you here?”She grin